


Lookalike

by Zzzara



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Doppelganger, Drarry, Emotional, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Flashbacks, Hopeful Ending, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memories, Not Endgame Drarry, Past Relationship(s), Pining Harry Potter, Possibly Unrequited Love, Requited Love, lookalike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:07:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22386181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zzzara/pseuds/Zzzara
Summary: When you look in his eyes,Do you think of mine?And when you look at that smile,Do I cross your mind?I know in your headYou see me instead'Cause he looks a lot like I did back thenBaby, don't lie,He's just a lookalike...
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 62
Collections: HD Wireless 2020





	Lookalike

**Author's Note:**

> This work is based on the song ["Lookalike"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8E63J9eINIE) by Conan Gray. Lyrics quoted in the summary and within the text are from this song.
> 
> Though this fic features a Happy/Hopeful Ending tag, I think I should point out that Drarry isn't endgame here (just so as not to disappoint anyone;)
> 
> My gratitude and love to wonderful [tackytiger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tackytiger/pseuds/tackytiger)  
> for being a brilliant, cheerful alpha and a precise beta for me! I love our chats so much, thank you! <3
> 
> Many thanks to the mods of this fest for the work and enthusiasm they put into this event!
> 
> *Disclaimer: all characters except OC belong to J.K. Rowling and other rightful owners.*
> 
> *The author of this work does not support J.K. Rowling's transphobic opinions.

**L o o k a l i k e**

_When you look in his eyes,_

_Do you think of mine?_

_And when you look at that smile,_

_Do I cross your mind?_

_I know in your head_

_You see me instead_

_'Cause he looks a lot like I did back then_

_Baby, don't lie,_

_He's just a lookalike..._

"Do I really look like him?" he will ask me, his hand light at the small of my back. 

I will turn to him in question, leaning closer over the music.

"Malfoy." _MalFOY -_ will be his way of pronouncing your name. His clear blue eyes will meet mine, that warm smile I'm so fond of lurking in the corners. "I've been told." His hand will swipe a strand of hair off my brow.

"Malfoy?" Following his nod across the Ministry ballroom, my heartbeat will skip just a little at the flash of blond hair and the elegant set of shoulders clad in the expensive fabric of your impeccably cut tuxedo.

Unaware of me staring, you'll be chatting with a witch in a plum gown, your delicate fingers absently tracing the stem of a champagne flute. 

That deliberate movement will remind me of him, of how I met him for the first time...

#

"Harry!" 

Hermione threw the door open and caught my hand, dragging me inside. "Finally! Where have you been?"

I had been busy figuring out some stuff in Robards' office and almost forgot about her invitation.

I found it weird that she led me to the living room by hand. She threw me an odd glance on the way—of excitement, and something else—and when we finally entered… I _stopped dead on_ the threshold.

And stared.

At first, I thought it was a cruel joke… but Hermione has never been cruel. Then I thought that my memory was playing odd tricks with me, or was it my eyes?

Until I finally realised that the man chatting with Ron by the fireplace wasn't you.

His blond hair was golden rather than the odd platinum shade I've never seen in anyone but… I shook myself.

The softer cut of his chiselled profile, his strong slender frame was almost like… almost. He was a _tad_ shorter, a _tad_ broader, and though I couldn't fully see his face - his voice was different. Warmer, lower, _kinder._ Welcoming. He was holding a wine glass, absently tracing the stem with his fingertips as he listened to Ron. I struggled to bring my breath under control.

"Hi, Harry!" Ron greeted me.

When _he_ finally turned, I flinched. 

"Manfred, meet Harry," Hermione said by my side. "Harry, Manfred is my colleague from Germany. Here to stay."

His _face…_

For a wild moment I still thought I was looking at you. The same shaped eyebrows on a clear smooth forehead, the same delicate cheekbones, aquiline nose.. the same precisely cut bow of lips. It was _the same…_ Until he smiled, and it was not.

The face turned warm, kind, different, _safe._ Laughter crinkled in the corners, ready to be unleashed. You never smiled like that. Only then did I realise that his clear eyes were nothing like yours. Bright blue, where yours were quicksilver, his open steady gaze so unlike your liquid, evasive one.

"Manfred." He offered his hand first.

I stepped forward and took it without hesitation. "Harry."

"I have heard so much about you." His deep voice was barely laced with accent, an undertone still hinted that English wasn't his mother tongue. I was enchanted.

"I…" 

"And you have never heard of me." He laughed, releasing my hand.

 _Would your face look like this,_ I wondered, _if you didn't budget your smiles?_

"I actually did." I replied. That's when I remembered Hermione's hints that there was this new colleague of hers, about to take a vacancy in St.Mungo's and move to London, and _'you absolutely must meet him, Harry.'_

"I don't want to meet anyone," I brushed her words off each time she brought this colleague up.

Still raw after you, still bruised after everything, I couldn't even think of anyone who wasn't you. And the mere thought of you made me sick.

Until I met Manfred. 

With his kind eyes on that utterly _Malfoy_ face; with his bright-blond head, strands laced with gold; with his warm laughter and sure presence that never ever made me doubt where I stood.

That's when I realised that all that time I wanted someone like you, but different. Someone with your face, someone as graceful, beautiful, charming. Someone who would love me the way I craved. Someone so unlike you.

I wanted _you -_ the you that wouldn't be you. The not-you you. The one you would never be.

The you that wouldn't rile me up, drive me mad, make me jealous, play with me in our endless game tug-of-war. The nice, the kind, the safe you. Someone who wouldn't wield my love as a weapon over my head as soon as he glimpsed its glint in the shadows. Someone with your face.

Manfred.

It was only a matter of time.

I found myself wanted, I found myself welcome, I found myself so openly adored. For once, I wasn't greedy, wasn't hiding, didn't pretend. Free to give everything away without fear.

So what, if sometimes my heart would squeeze at the sight of his face from a certain angle? So what, if after seeing you in the papers I still couldn't gather myself back? So what if I still avoided Quidditch matches because you would be there? So what, if lied to him that nothing was wrong after seeing a glimpse of you in the Ministry? So what, if asleep in the wake of the night, with his quiet breathing and ruffled hair, he looked just like you?

So what?

#

Bringing the flute to your lips, you will finally see me. All the way across the vast ballroom. My heart will drop. You will raise the glass in my direction in a show of a deliberate salute, throwing all the memories back at me like a swirl of autumn leaves. Haunting, beautiful, useless. Dead. A whisper, a touch away from turning into dust they belong to.

My hand will clench into a fist, crumbling the dust of those glimpses into nothing. I will take a breath... let it out and open my palm, allowing everything to dissolve without a trace in the music-lit air.

Unmoving, you will stare at him by my side, and I will be glad that you _notice…_ How many times would I evoke this moment in my dreams? How would I wish to meet you just like this: with someone—a beautiful, brilliant someone—someone like you by my side. When it will finally happen, I'll realise I won't care. I will be free.

The light touch of his palm on my back will remind me of his presence.

"Do I really look like him?"

"No," I will say, turning away from you.

"No," I will repeat, leaning in for a kiss. "Not at all."

His lips will be gentle, his eyes loving, his face so dear and familiar…

Will I regret anything?

Not at all.

  
  


_I hope in your head_

_You see me instead_

_'Cause you've been in mine every day since then_

_Maybe it's time_

_To find a lookalike_

_No, I can't lie,_

_I need a lookalike..._

  
  
  


~ The End ~

**_I am on Tumblr:[@big-draco-energy](https://big-draco-energy.tumblr.com/)_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> You are welcome to share your thoughts! <3
> 
> * * *
> 
> 🎵 This work is part of H/D Wireless, a song inspired, anon, Drarry fest with its home on tumblr! 
> 
> If you enjoyed this, shower our content creators with all the love you have to give by leaving kudos ❤️ and comments 💌 on their work!
> 
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